


Can't Forget You Again

by gxenbev



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fix-It, Kisses, M/M, Nightmares, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Sleepy Cuddles, We stan Bev and Richie’s friendship, i mean not really - Freeform, no more Myra, only a little angst, they're in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:54:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22313611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gxenbev/pseuds/gxenbev
Summary: The Losers get Eddie to the hospital in time. Richie's not losing Eds again. He can't lose Eds again.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 5
Kudos: 96





	Can't Forget You Again

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys like this! I've been wanting to write some aged-up Reddie for a while now.

Every noise made Richie jump. He hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in who knows how long and the plastic hospital chairs were sure to give him back problems if he didn’t already have any. He was tired and anxious and just ready for Eddie to wake up.

Eddie’s unconscious self seemed to have other ideas. The only indication that the other man was still alive was the consistent beat of his heart displayed on the heart monitor beside the bed. Richie droned out everything but that steady beeping.

The other Losers tried to drag Richie back to the townhouse. Beverly tried convincing him to at least leave to shower but Richie insisted he couldn’t leave Eddie’s side. He eventually gave in but drove back to the hospital almost immediately. He grasped Eddie’s limp hand but it was still as lifeless as before. Richie wasn’t sure what change he expected, but being beside him relieved him slightly.

Bill and Mike had to return back to their normal lives. Richie informed them he’d be fine staying in Derry until Eddie could leave. Ben and Beverly reassured them that they’d watch Richie, make sure he didn’t try to smuggle Eddie out. However, they could only stay so long before they had to go home and return to their jobs. Bev would be moving in with Ben after she quit her job with her ex-husband. Thinking about their new relationship made Richie hurt in a way that he couldn’t comprehend.

Every day, Richie sat and thought about Eddie. He thought about all the times he could have told Eddie he loved him and didn’t. All the forgotten memories and years spent apart. 

Richie drove back to the townhouse for a notepad and pen and returned to Eddie’s bedside to write everything he ever wanted Eddie to know. He was constantly scribbling and tearing out pages, rough draft after rough draft of word vomit and emotion.

Despite his unconscious state, Richie was sure Eddie was getting better. He knew Eddie was getting better, he just couldn’t quite prove it. He had so much faith in the shorter man beside him that everyone else would have thought him crazy.

It started with small twitches that no one else saw. Eddie’s finger twitched in his hand and Richie jumped immediately.

“Eddie?!” he exclaimed, shaking his hand violently. 

Eddie didn’t respond. He didn’t move anymore. His eyes remained closed and his body as lifeless as before. Richie sat back down, deflated. He would wait some more.

The next time he felt Eddie move, it had been his head. Richie was talking to him, updating him on the Losers life away from Derry as he so often did. Eddie’s head was lolled to the other side, but as Richie started talking, Eddie moved his head to face Richie.

Richie’s eyes lit up but Eddie did nothing more. 

“Eddie, come on. Open your eyes, please. Wake up,” he pleaded. Eddie was unresponsive.

The brief movement gave Richie more hope. He talked to Eddie more. He didn’t care that he wasn’t getting a response. He was just hoping Eddie would move again. 

Two and a half weeks into being admitted, Eddie finally woke up. Richie was scribbling in the notepad with one hand while grasping Eddie’s hand with the other. 

“Eddie, I need you to wake up. I’m really fucking tired of hospital food.” It was then that Richie felt Eddie lightly squeeze his hand. It was so sudden and quick that he wondered if he imagined it. No, there was no way it wasn’t real. Eddie knew he was talking to him, he could feel Richie there. He was gaining consciousness.

He wondered if he should call a nurse. He decided against it, deciding that he wanted to be the first person Eddie saw when he finally opened his eyes.

“Come on, Eddie. You got this,” Richie tried to encourage him. 

Eddie’s face scrunched up in concentration. Richie waited anxiously for Eddie to open his pretty brown eyes. He wanted to hear his voice, hear his laugh.

Eddie squeezed Richie’s hand again and eventually pulled open his all too heavy eyelids. He blinked rapidly, wishing the light away. It was too bright and too white. He wanted to close his eyes again but he also wanted to find Richie.

“Eddie,” Richie whispered to him. 

Eddie slowly turned his head to the side. He squinted, eyes landing upon Richie. He smiled immediately and tried to sit up with excitement. He winced, falling back immediately as a sharp pain enveloped his entire body. 

“Woah, buddy,” Richie said, grasping Eddie and lowering his back down on the pillows gently. Eddie let himself be helped and maneuvered back to a comfortable position.

“Richie,” he whispered, still smiling.

Richie beamed at him and squeezed his hand over and over again. 

“Thank fuck your awake. You’ve been out too long. I missed you so much, Eddie-Spaghetti.”

“Rich,” he said, taking a deep breath. Just talking was draining the little energy he had. “Is It gone? Did I kill it?”

“Yeah, Eds. It’s gone. You got it,” Richie responded. He would do anything to see Eddie flash him that grin again.

“Good.”

Richie called the nurse who rushed in to ask Eddie a billion questions. His responses were vague and as short as possible. Richie wanted her out as soon as possible. He wanted his Eddie-Spaghetti to himself and he didn’t care how selfish it sounded. 

After being poked and prodded insistently, the nurse finally left Eddie alone with Richie.

“How are you feeling, Eddie-Spaghetti?”

“Like complete shit,” Eddie deadpanned. “Where are the others?”

“Oh, Eds,” Richie said. “They wanted to stay but they couldn’t. You’ve been out for almost three weeks. They had to get back to work.”

“What about your job, ‘Chee?” Eddie said softly.

Richie looked over at his phone with all the missing calls and voicemails. His manager had been trying to get a hold of him ever since he left and he ignored every single call. Nothing seemed important to him except Eddie.

“Don’t worry about me. You’re the one who almost died.”

“Don’t remind me,” Eddie groaned, in obvious pain. The pills the nurse gave him hadn’t kicked in yet.

“Can’t wait to get you out of here, Eds.”

Richie spent Eddie’s remaining time in the hospital explaining to him what he missed while he was out. He told him about some memories from before returning to Derry. Eddie listened intently but didn’t say much. Holding a conversation took a lot of energy that he didn’t have.

Richie tried to delay it, but the inevitable conversation about Myra had to be brought up eventually. Richie decided it would be best to rip it off like a band-aid.

“How was Myra? We didn’t call her, we thought you might like to do that. She’s been calling you nonstop, but we had your phone. We told her you were safe, but she doesn’t know where you are. The poor lady must be worried sick.”

Eddie flinched at the mention of his wife.

“Hey, hey Eds, it's okay, I got you,” Richie comforts, launching into over-protection mode when he sees Eddie’s scared look. He never wants Eddie to suffer again.

“I-I don’t want to go back. I don’t want to go to Myra,” he said.

“You don’t?” 

“No, please don’t make me go back with her. Please,” Eddie pleaded as if Richie would ever consider making Eddie do something that would make him uncomfortable ever again.

“Eddie, don’t worry. Just explain why,” Richie comforted him, rubbing the hand he forgot he was holding. He dropped it, not knowing how Eddie would respond if he knew how Richie really felt. He hadn’t gotten a good chance to read him the papers he scribbled while he was out. Eddie looked hurt when Richie dropped his hand, so Richie happily picked it back up again.

“Rich, I was gonna call her when we got to the townhouse. I had a little speech all written out. I want a divorce. She- I- please, Richie,” Eddie stuttered. “I can’t go back.”

Richie didn’t pressure Eddie anymore. He understood. It didn’t surprise him that Eddie had married his mother, but he sure as hell wouldn’t make him go back.

“Let’s call her. Tell her, Eddie. We can get your stuff when we leave Derry.”

Eddie seemed relieved at first, but his expression suddenly changed to one of panic.

“Oh, no Richie, no. I don’t have a place to stay- I’ve certainly been fired by now- how will I pay for all these hospital bills? The surgery sure couldn’t have been cheap. I have to get my stuff, find a new job-”

Richie cut off his rambling, knowing Eddie was spiraling into a panic attack. He gently scooted Eddie over on the bed and crawled in beside him, mindful of his injuries. Eddie’s face crinkled with pain, but only momentarily. Richie wrapped an arm around him to comfort him.

“Eddie, you know I’ll help you. I’d never leave you out to dry. Stay with me in Cali. I have a roomy place, an extra bedroom. And you forget, I’m a comedian. I’ll help you with the bills, I’ve got a Netflix special.”

Eddie looked like he wanted to protest, but knew it was a bad idea.

“Thank you, Richie. Really.” 

Richie didn’t respond. Instead, he tugged Eddie into his side to hug him. 

“Let's give Myra a call then and finalize this bitch.”

Eddie had tears in his eyes when he finally hung up the phone. Richie understood why he was so scared of having to go back to that bitch. She was manipulative and honestly frightening. She tried to convince Eddie that this isn’t what he wanted. She told him he wanted to stay with her, planting seeds in his head that he knew wasn’t true.

Richie helped him through it. He helped him get his words out and tell Myra exactly what he told Richie. He pulled Eddie in closer and let him cry after her harsh words. 

Eddie was already upset, so Richie figured that it couldn’t hurt if he just told him how he felt now. Maybe it would cheer him up instead. Unlikely, Richie supposed, but he was tired of keeping the secret and now seemed as good a time as ever.

“Here, Eds,” Richie said, handing him one of the many papers in the little drawer of the table in the room. 

Eddie looked confused as he took the paper but his expression softened as he began reading. The tears started welling up again, but Richie’s were already a constant stream. Beverly would have been so proud if she knew what he’d done. 

When Eddie finished reading, he looked up at Richie with those big, brown eyes.

“Eds…?” Richie started but Eddie just grabbed his arm and pulled him down so that he could kiss him. It was soft and gentle. Richie moved his hands up to the other man’s face, moving the thumb over the scar Henry Bowers so lovingly made there. 

“Richie,” Eddie began to say, but he was cut off with the other’s lips on his again. He hadn’t felt this happy since living in Derry with all his friends before graduation.

They spent the remainder of the time in the hospital in this feeling of bliss despite Eddie’s condition. When the day finally came for Eddie to leave, the nurse brought in his medication and a wheelchair that they could take home and use in California. Richie went back to the townhouse to gather the many bags Eddie brought to Derry and loaded them in his car. 

Getting Eddie back to his place proved to be a difficult task. Eddie still hadn’t recovered his energy levels from waking up only a little over a week ago. His recovery wasn’t nearly close to being over, but Richie tried so hard to get him out of the hospital and away from Derry as soon as possible.

It pained Richie to see Eddie uncomfortable, but there was really nothing he could do, as they were forced to drive back to his home. 

Somehow, Eddie managed to keep his bitching to a minimum, which Richie found impressive knowing the man beside him. They entered Richie’s roomy flat and he immediately dropped the heavy bags he had slung over his shoulder.

“Welcome to Casa de Tozier,” he said, opening his arms. 

Eddie remained silent, taking in his new surroundings. His big brown eyes seemed to scan every item in his view as Richie waited for him to say something.

“What do you think, Eddie dear?” he asked nervously. Eddie smiled subtly.

“I like it,” he grinned.

Eddie was surprised that Richie had such a nice place. He had momentarily forgotten about his fame, gaining him such a nice place. It was clean and simply decorated. He hadn’t thought Richie knew disinfectant wipes existed, but everything seemed up to Eddie’s standards of cleanliness.

Richie slowly helped him stand up from the wheelchair he’d eventually given in to using. Eddie was stubborn, so Richie wasn’t surprised that he’d had to convince his new boyfriend to use it, but it wasn’t to hard considering it didn’t take long for Eddie to realize he couldn’t get around without it. He pulled him into a hug, supporting his weight to help him balance. Eddie hummed in response and leaned into Richie. Together, they set to unpacking all of Eddie’s bags.

They’d decided Eddie would sleep in the guest bedroom since their relationship was still so new. The bed was comfortable and it wasn’t long before he decided to test it out. Exhausted from traveling and unpacking, he curled up on the bed to take a nap.

Without Eddie awake to talk to, Richie wandered his own flat. He became restless quickly and wondered how he’d managed to be alone so often before returning to Derry.

In need of someone to talk to and not wanting to wake up Eddie, Richie called Beverly. The Losers had promised each other that they would keep in touch, and this time they could keep that promise. They wouldn’t forget each other again.

Beverly picked up on the second ring.

“Hey, Red,” Richie said as soon as Bev picked up. 

“What's up, Richie? How's Eddie?” she asked. They hadn’t talked since she left Derry and Richie really did miss her.

“Eddies doing good. It’s nice to have a calm Eddie around. He doesn’t have the energy to be his usual hyperactive self,” he chuckles into the phone. “He’s sleeping right now.”

“Thank fuck he didn’t have to go back to that bitch of a woman,” Beverly said.

“He knows we’d never let him go back if we knew what she was doing to him. I hope he knows that,” Richie replied. Beverly didn’t say anything but he knew she felt the same.

“Take care of him for us, Rich,” Bev said and Richie felt tempted to tell her everything about them. Beverly would be so proud of him, finally with his childhood crush. He wanted to just gush about everything, but he didn’t know what Eddie wanted. The one reason he restrained.

“Don’t worry, Red,” he reassured and said his goodbye.

Without anyone to talk to and distract, he set to work unpacking. Eddie’s boxes would be shipped to the apartment soon, despite how hard Myra fought to keep just about everything. Eddie’s divorce lawyer had been trying hard to compromise with Myra, but she was stubborn. He got very little of what he rightfully owned, giving into his ex-wife’s temper tantrums just so that he didn’t have to endure it. Richie began unpacking just what was in the bags Eddie brought to Derry.

Richie’s empty medicine cabinet was quickly filled to the brim with all kinds of different medications. He couldn’t even identify half of them. He knew that the empty space under the sink would soon be full of different cleaning supplies that he’d never heard of. The only reason the apartment was so clean was because Richie tried to spend as little time there as possible.

Richie hated being home alone. Even as a teenager, he hated the prospect of having no one to talk to. As an adult, his problem only got worse. He loved going on tour just to meet new people. When he wasn’t on tour, his manager tried to get him as many local gigs as possible. It was comforting to be anywhere but home.

He wasn’t sure if Eddie had even noticed that. The place as a whole lacked  _ Richie _ . It was simply decorated, but none of it was Richie’s taste. It lacked personality. The only reason he’d bothered to decorate at all was for when important company came over, which were experiences he hated with a burning passion. The art on the wall consisted of simple paintings that probably came from Kirklands or Amazon. Just prints he’d found for cheap. There were fake flowers sitting in a clear, plastic vase on the coffee table and he had a few plain lamps in different places more for decoration than function.

The only real evidence in the public space that Richie lived there was the bookshelf. He never lost the love of reading he had as a child and he kept a large collection of books. He even had a few comic books from his childhood. IronMan had always been his favorite.

Lost in thought about what Eddie thought of his apartment, Richie didn’t hear Eddie scrambling in the spare room. He woke up and tried to stand but lost his balance quickly. He braced himself against the headboard.

“Richie!” he called.

Richie heard him that time and ran to the bedroom to help.

“Well, good morning Eddie-Spaghetti!” he exclaimed.

Eddie grumbled in response but clung to Richie as he helped him into the living room.

Eddie hated when Myra called him fragile. She did it all the time, just like his mother. He was never truly fragile, not until this moment. He felt weak, which he might have expected after being torn through the sternum. He couldn’t stand the thought, though. The thought that maybe, just maybe, Myra had been right. Maybe he was fragile, leaning on Richie heavily just to enter the next room.

Richie plopped down on the couch and pulled Eddie down with him as he reached for the TV remote.

“Here Eds, what’s your go-to?” he asked, pulling up Netflix.

Eddie leaned into his side, enjoying the close proximity. 

“The Office, season four,” he responded. He leaned back, getting comfortable. Richie laid his arm across Eddie’s shoulder and pulled him into his side. He smiled, and Eddie couldn’t help but smile back. He could feel his recovery speeding up just by being next to Richie, or maybe his Adderall was finally kicking in.

The next day, Eddie woke up in a state of confusion. It took him a moment to blink the sleep out of his eyes and realize where he was. He gathered himself and stood, neglecting his chair for his crutches, which would surely wake Richie up with the clicking sound across the hardwood floor.

“Jesus Christ, Eddie, why are you up so early?” Richie yawned. His shirt rode up as he stretched and Eddie couldn’t help but stare at the exposed skin. Richie smiled, pretending he didn’t know what Eddie was doing.

“Sleep well?” he asked. Eddie nodded as Richie walked over to him, planting a gentle  kiss on his forehead. 

The day went by pretty slowly after that. They ate some old oatmeal that Richie found in the pantry. They hadn’t had a chance to go to the grocery and Eddie refused to leave the apartment just yet. 

So, the day was spent unpacking the rest of the bags Eddie had and the few boxes that arrived that afternoon. Eddie tried his best, but most of the work was done by Richie while his boyfriend directed him on where he’d liked it. It was quite functional, yet exhausting for the shorter man. By the end of the day, they were huddled back on the couch just like the night before.

“You don’t stay here very often, do you?” Eddie mumbled to him out of the blue as they watched TV.

Richie didn’t say anything for a moment, just adjusted their position so that Eddie’s face wasn’t buried in his shoulder. Eddie looked up at him with tired brown eyes and Richie shrugged.

“No, not really. I prefer being on tour than staying here. How’d you know?” he asked, remembering his thoughts from last night.

“It’s too clean,” Eddie replied. He had him all figured out and Richie couldn’t help but laugh.

“Fair, Eddie Spaghetti. You got me there.”

“It just doesn’t look like your place,” he said.

“What do you mean? You don’t like it?” Richie fussed.

“No, no! I like it, it just doesn’t remind me of you, you know? I guess I just expected Star Wars and Pink Floyd posters on the wall and just tidbits of all that dorky stuff you’re into,” he chuckled.

“Dorky? Black kettle calling the pot,” he said, squeezing Eddie gently. He hummed in response.

“How ‘bout this,” Richie proposed, “Soon, we’ll go on an adventure. We’ll buy some things to remind the apartment of more of a home. We’ll put up some ‘dorky’ posters and whatever you’d like.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Eddie was getting better, slowly but surely. Beverly called almost every day to check on his progress and he was always happy to inform her that he was doing well. By the next week and a half, after he arrived in LA, he was able to walk around the apartment without much assistance, even if only for a little while.

The only person prouder of him than Bev was Richie. He helped Eddie, rewarding him with kisses every time he walked over to him. It was a pretty good motivation.

Richie was finally able to convince him to leave the apartment with him. He wasn’t exactly confident enough to go to Richie’s gigs with him, despite how much he’d like to, but that was okay. Richie took him to a local coffee shop that was never crowded. The went to a few hole-in-the-wall type places to look for little knick-knacks and wall decor for the apartment, as promised. 

In these places, Richie found some old band posters that he thought were really cool and Eddie bought a few neat picture frames for the old photos they took back from the clubhouse. They were pictures of the Losers as kids and he was happy to display them now that he knew he wouldn’t forget.

Things were looking up.

Richie was happy, happier than he’d been in a long time. Happier than he’d ever been since leaving Derry the first time. Despite all this, the clown couldn’t be forgotten. He tried to erase any memory of Pennywise that floated around his brain, but it wasn’t possible. The insecurities the fucking clown gave him remained. 

Eddie made him feel better, though. Before Eddie moved in, he never talked to anyone about how he felt, and judging by his, as Eddie so lovingly called it, “traumatized” adulthood, he should have. What bothered him the most now, though, was the fact that he knew Eddie needed to talk and he refused to. He was stubborn and apparently didn’t have the desire to talk to Richie about how he was feeling. He said he didn’t want to bother Richie with mentions of his divorce or how the fucking clown made him feel. Richie never pushed him to talk, but he knew Eddie needed to. He saw how badly Eddie flinched when something fell and made a loud noise or when someone made a sudden movement towards him.

He wasn’t going to say anything until Eddie came to him first, but Richie knew that’d have to change when Eddie had his first nightmare since arriving at the apartment.

Richie was woken by a high pitched noise and scrambled for his glasses. He rubbed his eyes and heard the sound again. He immediately jumped up, knowing it had to be Eddie. He ran to the spare room to find his boyfriend squirming in bed. It was more like writhing, his face scrunched up in pain. He was screaming and groaning, mumbling unintelligible words.

Richie went to shake him awake but Eddie was a deep sleeper. Richie didn’t give up.

“Come on, Eds. Wake up,” he shouted. 

Eddie’s eyes shot open at the sound of Richie’s voice and it only took a moment for him to burst into tears. Richie immediately enveloped him in a hug and Eddie buried his face in the crook of his neck. Richie rubbed his back up and down, whispering comforting words into his boyfriend’s ear. He held him close as Eddie cried and carded his fingers through his hair.

It took a while, but Eddie started to settle. 

“Thanks, Richie,” he said with a scratchy voice. Richie just peppered his face with kisses in response. “Go back to bed.”

“No chance, Eduardo,” Richie mumbled, lifting Eddie up and carrying him bridal style before carefully placing him onto his own bed.

“Richie put me down!” Eddie protested but he made no effort to actually try and escape his boyfriend’s grasp. Once he laid Eddie down, Richie climbed into bed beside him, slipping under the covers and holding him again. 

“Just stay here tonight. Then you’ll sleep better,” Richie said confidently. Eddie wanted to argue and prove he was independent enough to sleep on his own, but the images of Richie trapped in the deadlights was still rattling around in his brain. Plus, Richie was basically a personal heater. He felt safe in Richie’s arms and decided it wouldn’t hurt to spend the night in Richie’s bed.

It didn’t take him long to fall back to sleep. He was usually never able to go back to sleep after having a nightmare, but having Richie there helped.

In the morning, Richie woke up first and his heart swelled at the sight of his sleeping boyfriend. He didn’t want to move for fear of waking him up, so he stayed in bed, cradling Eddie and watching his eyelids flutter every so often in sleep.

When Eddie finally did wake up, he turned around in Richie’s arms to face him.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Richie teased.

“Asshole,” he responded.

“God, someone’s not a morning person.” Eddie rolled over, trying to go back to sleep while Richie got up to start the coffee pot. Without Richie and his warmth, Eddie stubbornly got out of bed and padded into the kitchen.

“So, uh, do you want to talk about last night?” he asked cautiously.

Eddie’s eyes went wide at the mention of his nightmare and he shook his head.

“I won’t judge, I promise,” Richie reassured him. Still, Eddie couldn’t bring himself to talk about the terrifying images of Neibolt. Richie didn’t push him. He would talk when he was ready.

The next nightmare was only a few nights later. This time, Richie didn’t hesitate to run to Eddie’s room as soon as he heard the noises from across the hall. He walked into the same scene he saw the other night and immediately jumped into action.

Richie shook Eddie as he whimpered. 

“Come on Eddie, not again,” he said, trying to wake him up. He couldn’t stand seeing him suffer like this.

It took a little longer this time, but Eddie woke up in the same fashion: crying and grabbing for Richie.

“Richie!” he screamed, running his hands along the taller man’s face and eventually reaching his chest. Eddie stopped moving, resting his hand where it stopped over his heart. He sat still, just feeling the heartbeat. Richie was right there with him and he could feel the evidence. He was okay.

“I’ve got you, Eds,” Richie whispered in his ear as he gently rubbed his back. Eddie relaxed in his grasp and looked up with sad, tired eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Richie,” he whispered.

“Don’t be sorry. It was just a nightmare,” Richie reassured. He lifted Eddie up and carried him into his own bedroom again, but this time Eddie didn’t say anything. He remained absolutely quiet and still in Richie’s arms even after he laid him down. He didn’t wrap his arms around Richie like he usually did. He just laid there, staring at the ceiling until his eyes eventually fell shut.

In the morning, he woke up before Richie and carefully unwrapped himself from his boyfriend’s long limbs. He pulled on some sweatpants and left the room quietly. Intrusive thoughts invaded his mind and all he wanted was to be next to Richie while he hugged and cuddled him. He shouldn’t have left the bed but if he went back now he’d surely wake him up. Instead, Eddie sat on the balcony of the apartment to get some fresh air.

Richie woke up a little later and grappled with the sheets before finally swinging his legs over the side of the bed and leaving the room in search of Eddie. He found him staring at his feet sitting in the lawn chair they put on their balcony.  _ It spices the place up,  _ Beverly joked when he saw it, but they were comfortable. 

Richie slid the glass door opened and Eddie looked up, startled out of his thoughts.

“Hey,” he greeted as Richie squeezed into the chair with him.

“Good morning, Eddie spaghetti,” he said and kissed the crown of his head. Eddie gently slapped his arm but laughed. 

Eddie was about to get up and make them breakfast, but Richie caught his arm, pulling him back.

“Hey, Eddie, wait a second,” he said as Eddie turned back to face him. “Look, I just want to help you. I’m not going to force you to talk to me about your nightmares, but I think it might help.”

Eddie’s eyes widen. Richie’s hand traveled down from his arm to grasp his hand. Eddie sat back against Richie’s chest.

“It's really nothing to worry about Rich, I promise,” he started, but Richie cut him off.

“Eds, if something’s bothering you, then it’s worth worrying about,” he said.

Eddie nodded. He knew Richie was right, but he didn’t want him to freak out. He was stressed enough about Eddie’s health and his job. He didn’t want to add to his growing anxiety.

At the same time, Richie was asking him to share and he knew it would be a good idea. He wanted to spill everything to him. He wanted to tell Richie everything and have him hold him close as he did so.

“And if it means anything, I have nightmares, too,” Richie whispered.

“You do?” Eddie asked, surprised.

“Well goddamn, Eddie. We battled a fucking killer clown, I think we all get nightmares.” He had a point.

“Um, in my dreams, I see you,” Eddie started. Richie nodded. “And I see you while you’re in the deadlights, except I’m frozen. I’m just standing there uselessly like I did when Stan’s head attacked. I want to help you, but my limbs don’t move. You never wake up and we have to leave you. We left you down there, Rich!” 

Eddie has tears in his eyes when he finishes and he looks petrified that he’s just spilled the very thing that's been terrorizing him deep in his conscience. Richie pulls him impossibly closer. Eddie puts his hand on Richie’s chest again. This time the heartbeat is fast. He’s scared or he’s worried. Eddie knew he shouldn’t have told him.

“Richie, I’m so sorry-” he begins to say, Richie cut him off.

“Don’t be sorry. You can’t help any of this,” he says as he rubs his hand up and down Eddie’s arm. They sit like that for a while, Richie trying to process this new information and Eddie trying to seek comfort from Richie without looking needy.

Eventually, they need to get up and they continued their day like normal, but there's a nagging thought in the back of Richie’s mind all night.  _ Eddie’s scared because of me? He sees me die like I saw him die? _

The terrors that woke Eddie up started becoming more frequent. By the night after his third nightmare of the week, which was a week after he told Richie what he dreamed of, Richie pulled him into his own bed.

“Rich, what’re you doing?” Eddie asked as Richie pulled him by the hand into his own room.

“You might as well come and sleep with me. You end up in my bed most nights anyways. Plus, we’re together, so what's the problem?”

Eddie blushed but let himself be pulled under the covers with Richie. He snuggled close to his side and Richie wrapped his arms around his waist. 

“Is this okay?” he asked quietly.

“It’s perfect,” Eddie whispered back before laying his head on Richie’s chest. He fell asleep listening to his steady heartbeat. That night, he slept peacefully and nightmare-free.

  
  


In the morning, Eddie woke up to the sounds of Richie’s quiet snores. He smiled to himself. Instead of getting up and going about his usual morning routine, he snuggled back into his boyfriend’s chest. On instinct, Richie’s arms wrapped around him tighter.

Eddie planted a sweet kiss on Richie’s cheek as Richie’s eyes opened slowly.

“Goodmorning,” he said as Richie fumbled for his glasses, yawning.

“Why the fuck are you always up so early?” he mused.

“You’re the one who dragged me to your bed last night,” Eddie sassed.

“You make me sound like some kind of perv,” Richie said with a laugh.

“Yeah, but you’re my perv.”

“Okay, gross, let’s get up before you say more shit like that.”

Eddie threw his head back with laughter. That was something he never did with Myra that he loved about Richie. He rarely laughed with Myra, much less in the mornings. In the mornings, he would wake up early and make breakfast, maybe go to the gym before Myra could bitch about how unsanitary the equipment was. A couple of hours later, Myra would wake up. She was never a morning person and she always had an attitude when it was early. They would sit in silence and drink coffee.

With Richie, they would bicker and laugh while they drank their coffee. Eddie would make fun of his music taste while Africa played through their speakers for the third time that week. 

“Why the fuck do you love this song so much?” he would ask every time.

Each morning, Richie would come up with a different response. Sometimes they would make Eddie laugh. Other mornings they would make him swoon.

“Well, Eddie Spaghetti, it’s because you’re my Africa.” These were the mornings when his response was just nonsense.

“Alright, Rich.”

“At least I listen to more than just the Beatles and Buddy Holly.”

“What’s wrong with the Beatles?!” Eddie raved. 

“Nothing sweetheart. Nothing,” Richie said as he got up to put his mug in the sink. He walked back to the table and leaned down, gently placing his hand under Eddie’s face and lifting it up to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Fuck, I love you so much,” he whispered against his lips.

“I love you, too,” he said.

He couldn’t imagine his life any other way.

  
  



End file.
